


Enzo and Cass Take the Plunge

by Mithen



Series: Scenes from a Tour of Japan [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Kayfabe Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, Protectiveness, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7249672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enzo, Cass, and a bunch of other wrestlers go to Kyoto on their free day of the Japan tour.  It's cool and all, but Cass is acting weird and Enzo doesn't know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enzo and Cass Take the Plunge

“What the--” Enzo awoke to banging and sputtering nearby; he rolled over and realized he was hugging a pillow to himself. Where the hell was he? Oh yeah, Japan. Freaking _Japan._

“Oh, you gotta be _kidding_ me,” came Cass’s voice from the bathroom, and Enzo rolled out of bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“You okay, Cass?” Enzo swung the bathroom door open to find Cass hunched over awkwardly in the shower, trying to get soap out of his hair with a shower head that didn’t even rise high enough to clean off his pecs.

“Yeah, I’m _fine_ , don’t I look fine?” Cass snapped, trying to yank the flimsy shower curtain more closed, with minimal success. 

“I can help you get the soap off,” Enzo suggested, looking in the mirror. Might be a good idea to keep his hair slicked down today. On the other hand… Enzo fluffed his hair up into its full impressive height. They were gonna stand out anyway, so why not do it with style?

“I’m _fine,_ ” Cass repeated firmly, waving Enzo out of the bathroom.

* * *

More people were staring at Cass than at him, Enzo realized with some annoyance as they headed to the station. Too bad Cass had nixed the leopard-print holsters. Wow, was that a McDonald’s? He couldn’t read the sign. Weird. Did they have the same food at McDonald’s here as they did in the US?

Cass put a hand on his shoulder, and Enzo realized he was turned around and walking almost backwards. “This is cool,” Enzo said as a group of giggling schoolgirls in school uniforms parted around them. Were there school uniforms with any leopard print? Could he maybe have one made? A boy’s uniform, not a girl’s. Though maybe...

“‘Zo, watch where you’re going.” Cass didn’t sound annoyed, exactly, but Enzo decided he’d better focus on where he was walking more. It was hard, though. Too much happening, too much going on.

He decided he liked Tokyo.

They got lost twice trying to find the station before an old lady with purple hair took pity on them and led them to the gate, smiling widely and clearly not understanding a word they said beyond “station.” “There they are!” called Dolph Ziggler as they came close, waving them over to join an odd assortment of wrestlers: Charlotte, Chris Jericho, Big E, Kofi Kingston, Seth Rollins, and Baron Corbin. Enzo was relieved the Vaudevillains weren’t there--Cass tended to get really tense when the Vaudevillains were around.

“You’re late,” Corbin snarled as they came closer. “We almost left without you.”

“Almost your loss,” Enzo said breezily.

“I thought Becky was coming?” said Cass.

“Asuka’s taking her and Sasha to Akihabara,” said Charlotte. “Said something about showing them where to find all the best wrestling… doo-jinch-ee?” She wrinkled her nose. “Something like that.”

Big E’s eyebrows went up, and Kofi looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head and kept his mouth shut.

“Hey, has anyone seem Sami?” said Dolph.

“Haven’t seen him or Kevin since we got here,” said Enzo.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I hope they don’t kill each other before the shows,” Seth said. “It would be a pain to rebook the matches.” Then he brightened. “Though I’d be happy to take Kevin’s place against Nakamura,” he said.

* * *

The bullet train pulled up into the station smooth as silk and on time to the second. “Ain’t much like New York,” Cass said as they all filed in politely with no shoving. Soon enough Tokyo was sliding past them, a gray flow of buildings whipping by seemingly without end.

“Helluva lot better than flying,” Enzo noted. There wasn’t a huge amount of leg room, but it was better than a plane. “Oooh. I’ll take one of those. And one of those. And one of those,” he said to the nervous woman behind a rolling cart heaped high with snacks and drinks.

“Do you even know what those are?” asked Cass.

“It ain’t an adventure if you know what everything is!” Enzo announced, opening a package. He wrinkled his nose at the scent which wafted from it. “Fish jerky?”

Cass narrowed his eyes at the package. “Based on the picture, I’d say squid jerky.” Sure enough, there was a cheerful cartoon squid on the package, waving its tentacles jauntily.

“Wow,” said Enzo, taking a bite and chewing for a long time. He finally swallowed and said again, “Wow.” He opened the bottle of whitish liquid he’d grabbed and looked at the label. “Pocari Sweat. Squid and sweat, this is awesome.”

A smooth dark head and two very wide eyes appeared over the top of the seat in front of him, attached to a solemn-eyed child who wanted to get a look at these exotic beings behind him. “Hiya, kid,” said Enzo, and the eyes widened further. “You want some of my Sweat?” he asked, raising the bottle, and the eyes disappeared again.

Enzo turned to grin at Cass and discovered Cass had slipped his glasses on and was reading a tour book, his brow furrowed intently. “Oh come _on,_ Cass,” Enzo said in disgust. “You should be looking around and living, not reading!”

“I like to know where I’m going,” Cass said. 

“You’re going with me, and that’s all that matters.” Enzo took another bite of squid jerky.

Cass didn’t look up from his book, but Enzo saw his mouth curve. “That ain’t no lie,” he said.

* * *

As they got off the bullet train, the July heat smacked Enzo in the face like a hot washcloth. By the time Jericho herded them all down to the bus stop below, Enzo was pretty sure his hair was completely wilted. Annoying.

Chris Jericho apparently had strong opinions about what the appropriate things to see while in Kyoto were; he announced the itinerary at the top of his lungs, waving them onto the right bus. “I know what I’m doing, you all just do as I say,” he yelled, and with varying degrees of annoyance, everyone did.

Enzo found himself pressed up against Cass by the crowd; Cass looked uncomfortable and put his arm around Enzo as if to shield him from getting jostled. Enzo almost wanted to laugh--he was bigger than any of the other people on the bus besides the WWE folks--but Cass’s arm around him was comfortable in a heavy way, so he didn’t shrug it off.

“‘Sanjuusangendo literally means _the hall with thirty three spaces between columns,_ ’” Cass read from his guidebook.

“How...poetic,” said Charlotte with a hint of a sneer.

“‘There are one thousand and one statues of Kannon, the goddess of mercy,’” Cass went on as they walked across a yard of white gravel, blinding in the summer sunlight, toward a long low hall made of plain dark wood. Inside were row after row of ornate gilded statues. Hundreds of serene golden faces gazed out at the wrestlers. It was quiet there, cool and dark, pretty nice after the shimmering bright heat of the yard.

“You’re supposed to look for the faces of people you know in the statues,” said Cass. “‘Cuz Kannon can take on the form of any person to help.”

That prompted a burst of hilarity as the wrestlers started to look for familiar faces in the carved and shining faces: Dolph claimed to have found Rusev, while Seth announced none of them looked stupid enough to be Dean. A spirited hunt broke out to find the one that looked most like Brock Lesnar. Other tourists were looking at the giggling, bickering wrestlers with some disapproval, but they didn’t care.

“Ain’t none of ‘em big enough to be Cass,” Enzo announced, thinking privately that none of them were handsome enough, either. He looked over and saw Charlotte standing in front of one, her head tilted to the side. “Yeah?” he said curiously.

“That one looks like my brother,” murmured Charlotte, and for a moment there was no defensive arrogance on her face.

They stood together in silence, looking at the peaceful features of the god of mercy.

“Yeah,” said Enzo, nodding. “Yeah, I think it does too.”

* * *

The bus dropped them off at the base of a hill with a street that wound upwards, lined with little shops selling a crazy variety of knick-knacks: wind bells, teacups, posters of boy bands.

“Stop complaining and start climbing, you stupid idiots,” said Chris Jericho when a few people pointed out they were hungry. But he relented halfway up the hill and everyone stopped to get bowls of buckwheat noodles in broth for lunch. “I’m sorry I ever told you it was okay to slurp your noodles,” Chris sighed after Enzo finished a particularly enthusiastic mouthful.

“And _I’m_ sorry you ain’t got no joy in life,” Enzo retorted.

Kiyomizu Temple was perched on the side of the hill overlooking Kyoto, its wooden veranda supported by a vast latticework of pillars. “In Japanese, ‘jumping from Kiyomizu’ means ‘to take the plunge’ in English, because people believed if you survived the jump from here you’d get your wish,” Cass said.

“You’re shitting me,” Enzo said, peering off the veranda. It was a long way down.

“That’s what the guidebook says. They don’t allow it anymore.”

“Yippee,” muttered Enzo. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Just a thing they sell here,” said Cass, tying a little purple bit of cloth to Enzo’s backpack. “I got one for your belt, too,” he said, attaching a yellow one to Enzo’s beltloop. “And I thought maybe you could wear one in your hair,” he added, deftly braiding a red one into Enzo’s rattail before Enzo could protest. “Stylish,” Cass said, giving him the thumbs-up.

Enzo turned his head from side to side, feeling it swinging there like a little pendulum. Weird. But okay, if Cass thought it looked good.

Kofi and Dolph were daring each other to do a handstand on the veranda railing as the wrestlers followed it around the temple, taking a lot of steps downward to what looked like a little garden. Mossy slopes were dotted with little stone statues, many in what looked like hand-knitted red bibs; Baron Corbin, who had been dramatically and loudly bored for a while, perked up when Cass told him they were gods to watch over miscarried and stillborn babies.

At the base there were three slender waterfalls that poured out into a basin. People were lining up to catch water from the falls in a dipper and take a drink. “Let’s try it,” said Cass, grabbing Enzo’s arm, and dragged him into line. “No, not that one,” he said as Enzo got a dipper and started reaching out to catch water from the first stream. “The third one.”

“What difference does it make? It’s all water,” Enzo said, exasperated, but drank from the third stream anyway.

There was a little restaurant in the garden that sold brightly-colored shaved ice: Big E and Seth Rollins appeared to be competing to see who could consume theirs faster. When Seth doubled over with brain freeze, E got up and celebrated by twerking until Kofi made him stop.

They looped back to the entrance gate once more, only to discover Ziggler had gone missing. “Probably found someone cute to flirt with,” Jericho said in disgust, crossing his arms. “Well, we’re not waiting forever.”

The courtyard was full of cooing pigeons strutting around; Enzo resisted the temptation to chase some. There was a sweet smell of incense in the air from a huge brazier in the center of the courtyard, and people were stopping to wave their hands through the smoke that trailed down from it.

“Hey, ‘Zo, come here,” said Cass. “Get some of this smoke on you.”

“What? Why should I? I--awk!” Enzo felt his voice cut off into a gasp as Cass hoisted him up and waved his head above the smoky brazier. He coughed on incense smoke and kicked at Cass, feeling indignation boiling up in him. “Put me _down!_ ”

Cass put him down and looked at the ground, scuffing the pebbles of the courtyard with his toe. He looked chagrined, but Enzo was too annoyed to slow down at this point.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you, man?” he yelled, waving his arms around. “Why you acting all weird? Cut it out! And stop just picking me up like a lapdog, I’m not your damn _pet._ ”

“I didn’t think you were,” Cass muttered, but Enzo had already turned his back on him and stormed off, scattering startled pigeons in his wake. Enzo threw himself down on a bench and crossed his arms, glaring at the tourists going by, ignoring Cass’s slumped shoulders on the other side of the courtyard. 

“What a dope.” 

Enzo transferred his glare to Chris Jericho, who’d sat down next to him, but somehow he was feeling too low to come up with any snappy words. Not that Jericho cared, he was going on anyway, nodding at Cass:

“You can’t be superstitious as a wrestler. You make your own luck, you know? These things--” He flicked the little cloth package tied to Enzo’s backpack, “--they’re supposed to keep you safe, but that’s dumb.”

“Wait,” said Enzo, “they’re supposed to what?”

“A little bit of cloth isn’t going to keep you safe!” Jericho was indignant. “Or like those waterfalls. They all come from the same source, so it’s _moronic_ to claim that drinking from one improves academic skills and one helps your love life and one grants health. It doesn’t matter!”

“Uh, which one is the third one?”

“That’s the one for health,” Jericho said.

“Right,” said Enzo. “I knew that.”

“And then--” Jericho was on a roll now, “--and then he buys all that bull about the temple incense smoke strengthening body parts it touches and he’s just gotta get your soft head in there. What a maroon.” Jericho shook his head. “Stupid idiot.”

Enzo looked across the courtyard at where Cass was talking to Seth and Big E about something, watching his arms wave in explanation. Cass glanced over to where Enzo was and his eyes flicked away again, but not before Cass had gotten a good look at his expression in that moment.

“Nah,” he said, more to himself than Jericho, “I think _I’m_ the stupid idiot.”

He got up and loped over to where Cass was, slowly at first and then picking up speed until he grabbed him by the hand. “C’mere,” he said. “Just _c’mere,_ ” he repeated as Cass started to ask questions, dragging him along until they were standing on the wooden veranda of the temple, looking out at Kyoto far below them.

“This is where you’re supposed to take the plunge, right?” Enzo said.

“Uh, yeah, but--” Cass looked alarmed. “You’re not gonna--”

Enzo grabbed Cass’s hands. “Cass!” he yelled. “I wanna be your partner forever!”

Cass blinked at him. “Well, sure,” he said. “Of course. As long as you want--”

“No, man!” Enzo bellowed. “I mean I wanna be your _partner_ partner!” He felt a sudden, rare doubt slice through his certainty, but it was too late, he had taken the plunge: there was blank shock on Cass’s face, and it was too late, he’d ruined everything, and--

Cass scooped him up into a huge hug, and then kissed him, right there in front of God and Kyoto and all the cheering, wolf-whistling wrestlers on the tour, and Enzo didn’t care one damn bit.

* * *

Enzo looked around the hotel room, grinning. It was weird, it had seemed tiny and dingy this morning, but it only seemed cozy now. Just big enough for the both of them.

There was a thumping and sound of water spraying from the bathroom, followed by a curse. “You okay?” called Enzo.

“I’m fine,” Cass’s voice came back.

What a day this had been, Enzo thought, what a perfect day. Even the concrete wall outside their window couldn’t dampen his mood.

Another thump. “I’m just having some problems with the shower,” Cass announced.

Enzo beamed at his surroundings. Cass had kissed him. He still couldn’t believe it. Right there in front of everyone. And no one seemed at all surprised. Chris Jericho even snorted something like “It’s about time” on the train later. Life was so weird. So weird and so good.

“I _mean,_ ” Cass’s voice echoed from the bathroom, “If _someone_ maybe wanted to help me out here, I would be open to the experience. That’s what I’m saying, Zo.”

“Oh? Oh!” said Enzo.

“What I’m _saying_ is, get your ass in here, Zo,” said Cass.

And Enzo got his ass--and the rest of him--in there.


End file.
